Saturday, December 29, 2012
Why is my wifi so fucking good right now?
Cause I'm drinking in a hackers' spaceship underneath Berlin. Bitches.
Monday, December 24, 2012
Christmas insomnia
Sitting on the couch
Chillin by myself
Should I smoke weed
Or do something else?
Watching Home Movies
Laughin at the coach
Got no one to talk to
I guess I'll roll a roach
Wishing that my bros
Were here by my side
When I said what I was doing
I actually lied
Im really here in bed
Just trying to fall asleep
And sometimes writing rhymes
Will let me get a peep
I hope I slumber soon
And dream as light as snow
Because to be quite honest
This poem has n'where to go
It's two o'clock am
I took a nap at seven
Now I won't wake up
Til quarter of eleven
Tomorrow I'll be groggy
Opening my presents
I'm twenty one years old
Why the fuck do my parents still get me presents?
Chillin by myself
Should I smoke weed
Or do something else?
Watching Home Movies
Laughin at the coach
Got no one to talk to
I guess I'll roll a roach
Wishing that my bros
Were here by my side
When I said what I was doing
I actually lied
Im really here in bed
Just trying to fall asleep
And sometimes writing rhymes
Will let me get a peep
I hope I slumber soon
And dream as light as snow
Because to be quite honest
This poem has n'where to go
It's two o'clock am
I took a nap at seven
Now I won't wake up
Til quarter of eleven
Tomorrow I'll be groggy
Opening my presents
I'm twenty one years old
Why the fuck do my parents still get me presents?
Saturday, December 22, 2012
Idea
Ok so I'm riding in a car and Im looking at the moon. And I'm wondering if Jesse and Adrian can see this moon. Like what if the three of us all looked up at the moon at the same time from three different continents. Idk if it's possible but I think itd be cool.
One Night In: Budapest
It started with a harmonica battle.
--
Scott and I began our night exiting a lame blues bar, escaping the bad beer and the professional bowling on tv. We head down a thin cobblestone street in Budapest towards the metro, talking about how we were enjoying this city only slight less than Brussels (later expect a post called "I Spit On Your Streets: Brussels Edition"). It was then that a sound emerged, blaring from a window above. The distinct growl of a rock guitar solo was upon us. We followed it.
The lobby was white marble. Broken pianos, guitars and brass instruments lined the walls. Inside was a similarly styled cafe with a curious spiral stair case. We followed the music up the stairs, past a small bar into what would have look like a dark conference room if it wasn't for the tiny stage, colored lights and wailing 5 piece rock band. The mix of American rock classics ("Hound Dog"), Hungarian banter and Jack Black dance moves gave the show a messed up lounge singer quality to it. The flow of performance was only interrupted when a short man from the crowd walks on stage and picks up a harmonica.
The singer/harmonica player and his new challenger stand like familiar enemies. The drums count in. What took place after that can only be described as the most ferocious Hungarian harmonica battle that two Americans have ever seen that night. The legends will speak for themselves.
Back into the cold with new enthusiasm, we head to the metro. Empty and seriously confusing, the choice was made to sneak onto the subway. Successful, we were soon out in the cold again, this time a little more lost. Our route takes us into an abandon looking industrial area. We cautiously walked through the poorly lit street. A corner appears. Smoke rises off of a crowd in silhouette. Music is close. We've made it to the entrance INSTANT!
Instant: 1. an infinitesimal or very short space of time; a moment
2. A packed 26 room warehouse sporting a maze of insanely decorated hangout rooms, dance floors and bars; as if stepping into a drunk, horny modern art painting.
The first room we entered was the enchanted forest. Trees and small strange animals all underneath a giant owl statue with boobs. We grabbed drinks and wandered. The crowd was young and international. There was a fully green room, a room made of sheet music, two big dance floors with DJs and so much more. It's the kind of place where you'd expect to fall into a secret passage way. We settle at one of the bars and start to mingle.
A couple of college girls, a foreign dude, a few brief encounters, we're enjoying the atmosphere and diverse crowd. Then we spot two douchy hipsters directly behind us. One a stupidlooking French guy in a red buttoned down accented with white birds, the other in thick glasses and white thin 1950's styled collared shirt. We discuss the possibilities of fighting out of principle but the topic is dropped when Scott discovers his new favorite thing, Strongbow (a champagne drink in individual beer bottles). We decide to hit up the game room. Games and drinks later we emerge back to the enchanted forest. Looking for more people to talk with we spot the hipster with thick glasses alone. I jokingly mention to Scott the possibilities of punching him in the face. The next thing I knew Scott was furiously marching directly at him!
Standing intimidatingly close to him, Scott begins to talk. I started to walk over and already could feel the tension. I enter as the hipster, Jeremy, started telling a hilarious story about his friend walking off with a loud annoying American chick. Things eased up, we began to joke around and get to know each other.
Jeremy is a well traveled australian in the fashion industry. If I had to describe him I'd say "he's your friend who does coke": sketchy, amiable, generous and loose yet somehow unhumbled by his many missed steps. We drank and talked about our night. Jeremy tells us about three girls he met earlier at the ATM. They told him to meet them at a club up the street called Peaches and Cream. He wanted to go, we wanted adventure.
Posh is the only way to describe it. Pretentious, stuck up, rip off, posh. That's Peaches and Cream. We enter after paying a stupidly high coat and cover fee. All white walls and white couches, a dance floor population of 90% asshole and 9% stuck up girls (there was one girl dancing hip hop who was dope. She may have just gotten off the set of "Step Up 2 The Streets") and a staff all dressed in Santa outfits. We set out to look for the aforementioned girls. Out of the dance floor and to the bar and Jeremy has already spots all three, they are behind the bar in Santa outfits! Learning he was just marketed to and not hit on, Jeremy and our's mood turns to that of fuck it.
Jäger bombs and rum and coke. Back to the dance floor. The crowd showing their true colors, wanting nothing to do with three guys looking to have fun. Its all rolling eyes and disapproving looks from eastern european giants. We get bored on the dance floor. Scott decides to introduce us to three girls by throwing a pillow at them. The lack of humor is astounding. Fuck this posh bullshit.
Back to Instant! More drinking erupts. Jeremy and I spot two cute girls in the enchanted forest, one blonde and brunette. We say hello and start up a conversation. The brunette plays coy and knowing in flirtatious way, she and Jeremy talk. The blonde is honest and friendly with a great smile, we talk. They are Hungarian and have been friends since childhood. They go to different universities now but are traveling locally for a bit. The three of them want to smoke so we relocate to the smoking bar. The blonde pulls out a pack of cigarets with the word "freedom" written on it in big Sharpey letters. It's around 4am at this point so the finer details of the conversation have escaped me.
Meanwhile on the dance floor, Scott has been grinding hard with a hot little Spanish girl. After a few songs of intense dancing she pauses and points to the guy directly behind her. "This is my boyfriend" and she disappears. Scott then gets hit on by two gay men. They buy him three rounds of red shots called "blood of bitches". He appeared in the smoking bar after an hour, very drunk and a little shaken. The two Hungarian girls ultimately shut us down. I was denied a kiss with a very decisive "no". Jeremy settled for giving the brunette girl his email address.
Defeated and very drunk we finally exited Instant. Outside there was a small group of guys trying to fight with a blonde dude. They are trying to kick and egg him on. We decide to join in! Wanting to even up the numbers we jumped next to the blonde guy, get his back and get ready for a brawl. We started pushing and yelling at the other group who, after seeing the numbers even up, back down. The blonde guy laughs his ass off at the situation, he was the only one of a bunch of drunk guys who didnt wanted to fight yet he ended up smack in the middle of one.
We finally decided to call it a night. We find a tiny pizza place so sketchy they refused to let us inside. Instead they slide us pizza through a cracked window. Jeremy then invited us to go back to his place for wine. I could immediately tell that Scott's mind was also racing with possible terrible outcomes (doing coke and waking up in a tub of ice among them). Politely, we declined.
We walked in what at least felt like the right direction of our hostel. We come across a playground.
Somewhere in Central Budapest, 530am: Two drunk Americans laugh and yell as they spin endlessly on rusted metal playground swings.
--
Scott and I began our night exiting a lame blues bar, escaping the bad beer and the professional bowling on tv. We head down a thin cobblestone street in Budapest towards the metro, talking about how we were enjoying this city only slight less than Brussels (later expect a post called "I Spit On Your Streets: Brussels Edition"). It was then that a sound emerged, blaring from a window above. The distinct growl of a rock guitar solo was upon us. We followed it.
The lobby was white marble. Broken pianos, guitars and brass instruments lined the walls. Inside was a similarly styled cafe with a curious spiral stair case. We followed the music up the stairs, past a small bar into what would have look like a dark conference room if it wasn't for the tiny stage, colored lights and wailing 5 piece rock band. The mix of American rock classics ("Hound Dog"), Hungarian banter and Jack Black dance moves gave the show a messed up lounge singer quality to it. The flow of performance was only interrupted when a short man from the crowd walks on stage and picks up a harmonica.
The singer/harmonica player and his new challenger stand like familiar enemies. The drums count in. What took place after that can only be described as the most ferocious Hungarian harmonica battle that two Americans have ever seen that night. The legends will speak for themselves.
Back into the cold with new enthusiasm, we head to the metro. Empty and seriously confusing, the choice was made to sneak onto the subway. Successful, we were soon out in the cold again, this time a little more lost. Our route takes us into an abandon looking industrial area. We cautiously walked through the poorly lit street. A corner appears. Smoke rises off of a crowd in silhouette. Music is close. We've made it to the entrance INSTANT!
Instant: 1. an infinitesimal or very short space of time; a moment
2. A packed 26 room warehouse sporting a maze of insanely decorated hangout rooms, dance floors and bars; as if stepping into a drunk, horny modern art painting.
The first room we entered was the enchanted forest. Trees and small strange animals all underneath a giant owl statue with boobs. We grabbed drinks and wandered. The crowd was young and international. There was a fully green room, a room made of sheet music, two big dance floors with DJs and so much more. It's the kind of place where you'd expect to fall into a secret passage way. We settle at one of the bars and start to mingle.
A couple of college girls, a foreign dude, a few brief encounters, we're enjoying the atmosphere and diverse crowd. Then we spot two douchy hipsters directly behind us. One a stupidlooking French guy in a red buttoned down accented with white birds, the other in thick glasses and white thin 1950's styled collared shirt. We discuss the possibilities of fighting out of principle but the topic is dropped when Scott discovers his new favorite thing, Strongbow (a champagne drink in individual beer bottles). We decide to hit up the game room. Games and drinks later we emerge back to the enchanted forest. Looking for more people to talk with we spot the hipster with thick glasses alone. I jokingly mention to Scott the possibilities of punching him in the face. The next thing I knew Scott was furiously marching directly at him!
Standing intimidatingly close to him, Scott begins to talk. I started to walk over and already could feel the tension. I enter as the hipster, Jeremy, started telling a hilarious story about his friend walking off with a loud annoying American chick. Things eased up, we began to joke around and get to know each other.
Jeremy is a well traveled australian in the fashion industry. If I had to describe him I'd say "he's your friend who does coke": sketchy, amiable, generous and loose yet somehow unhumbled by his many missed steps. We drank and talked about our night. Jeremy tells us about three girls he met earlier at the ATM. They told him to meet them at a club up the street called Peaches and Cream. He wanted to go, we wanted adventure.
Posh is the only way to describe it. Pretentious, stuck up, rip off, posh. That's Peaches and Cream. We enter after paying a stupidly high coat and cover fee. All white walls and white couches, a dance floor population of 90% asshole and 9% stuck up girls (there was one girl dancing hip hop who was dope. She may have just gotten off the set of "Step Up 2 The Streets") and a staff all dressed in Santa outfits. We set out to look for the aforementioned girls. Out of the dance floor and to the bar and Jeremy has already spots all three, they are behind the bar in Santa outfits! Learning he was just marketed to and not hit on, Jeremy and our's mood turns to that of fuck it.
Jäger bombs and rum and coke. Back to the dance floor. The crowd showing their true colors, wanting nothing to do with three guys looking to have fun. Its all rolling eyes and disapproving looks from eastern european giants. We get bored on the dance floor. Scott decides to introduce us to three girls by throwing a pillow at them. The lack of humor is astounding. Fuck this posh bullshit.
Back to Instant! More drinking erupts. Jeremy and I spot two cute girls in the enchanted forest, one blonde and brunette. We say hello and start up a conversation. The brunette plays coy and knowing in flirtatious way, she and Jeremy talk. The blonde is honest and friendly with a great smile, we talk. They are Hungarian and have been friends since childhood. They go to different universities now but are traveling locally for a bit. The three of them want to smoke so we relocate to the smoking bar. The blonde pulls out a pack of cigarets with the word "freedom" written on it in big Sharpey letters. It's around 4am at this point so the finer details of the conversation have escaped me.
Meanwhile on the dance floor, Scott has been grinding hard with a hot little Spanish girl. After a few songs of intense dancing she pauses and points to the guy directly behind her. "This is my boyfriend" and she disappears. Scott then gets hit on by two gay men. They buy him three rounds of red shots called "blood of bitches". He appeared in the smoking bar after an hour, very drunk and a little shaken. The two Hungarian girls ultimately shut us down. I was denied a kiss with a very decisive "no". Jeremy settled for giving the brunette girl his email address.
Defeated and very drunk we finally exited Instant. Outside there was a small group of guys trying to fight with a blonde dude. They are trying to kick and egg him on. We decide to join in! Wanting to even up the numbers we jumped next to the blonde guy, get his back and get ready for a brawl. We started pushing and yelling at the other group who, after seeing the numbers even up, back down. The blonde guy laughs his ass off at the situation, he was the only one of a bunch of drunk guys who didnt wanted to fight yet he ended up smack in the middle of one.
We finally decided to call it a night. We find a tiny pizza place so sketchy they refused to let us inside. Instead they slide us pizza through a cracked window. Jeremy then invited us to go back to his place for wine. I could immediately tell that Scott's mind was also racing with possible terrible outcomes (doing coke and waking up in a tub of ice among them). Politely, we declined.
We walked in what at least felt like the right direction of our hostel. We come across a playground.
Somewhere in Central Budapest, 530am: Two drunk Americans laugh and yell as they spin endlessly on rusted metal playground swings.
Friday, December 21, 2012
Back in the Homeland
Left at 2pm from my house in CT and arrived
in Buenos Aires, Argentina at 5pm the next day. Had to eat two really expensive
meals at the airport which sucked. The second one being Subway where the
footlong sub cost $12 (American), that’s a dollar an inch, almost as much as
what I charge when I do my prostitution.
Anyways, It’s nice and warm here. I met up
with some of my family last night and ate some empanadas (delicious). I’ll
probably be going to the casino tonight, playing soccer on Saturday, going to
my aunt’s on Sunday and going out every night. If anything cray happens, I’ll
blog it on Monday. At the same time I don’t want to post too much because
Adrian and Josh will be on the road trip soon so they will need to blog and
Jesse has be doing some great blogging as of late. THIS blog will be as packed
as my ass hole on a Sunday night birthday banger. Can’t wait!
Also, after reading Adrian’s blog about
positive psychology, I couldn’t agree more with what the guy said about family
dinners. If there’s one thing Argentina does well it’s family dinners. Sit
around some good food with some friends, family, and awesome old people and
just talk for hours. Absolutely nothing better. I’ll have a better blog on this
a little bit later but I just had to note how right the man was about family
dinners.
P.S: Love how much action the blog has been
getting lately.
something i learned the other night
i don't know if anyone else is aware, but apparently scott reads the blog everyday. talked to him the other night. he knew all about jesse's adventures. fucker hasn't posted shit since june.
anyone else as pissed as i am?
anyone else as pissed as i am?
Thursday, December 20, 2012
Looking Back
Looking back upon the events of last night, I still like smoking, but I need to be more positive.
I can still be a sarcastic asshole and still be positive, right?
I can still be a sarcastic asshole and still be positive, right?
Wednesday, December 19, 2012
Also
No Hate 2013 is a real thing.
We're gonna do it.
Or forget to and then remind each other every time we say something hateful and then repeat.
We're gonna do it.
Or forget to and then remind each other every time we say something hateful and then repeat.
I think I need to stop
I think I need to stop smoking completely now.
I like it, don't get me wrong. But when I'm left alone, I just think introspectively and I get stuck on myself. Feels bad man.
I think it's break time.
I like it, don't get me wrong. But when I'm left alone, I just think introspectively and I get stuck on myself. Feels bad man.
I think it's break time.
Read this blog last night, slightly relevant to us
http://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/the-good-life/201210/awesome-e-pluribus-unum
Cool thoughts. Then I checked the comments. Apparently the dude who wrote this was a well-known professor of positive psychology. This was his last blog entry before he died unexpectedly 5 days later.
Has some other cool articles here.
Cool thoughts. Then I checked the comments. Apparently the dude who wrote this was a well-known professor of positive psychology. This was his last blog entry before he died unexpectedly 5 days later.
Has some other cool articles here.
Patrick
So I left Amsterdam after a night of raunchy sex shows and made my way to the quaint city of Bruges. Scott has a better story to tell but for me the highlight was wandering into an old theatre from 1905 and meeting the own Patrick.
An eccentric cinephile in his 50's, he appeared to be the sole owner and caretaker. When we wandered into his theatre at 10pm his single screen was playing The Hobbit. The lobby was littered with huge old 35mm projectors, Steinbeck flatbeds and a mess of other archaic displaced machinery. Patrick appeared out of the theatre confused as to our purpose in his lobby. We began to ask him about the theatre. He told us about the opening of the theatre in the 1905, how it was originally an open air lot with horses, how the theatre had been changing with the times, how it was used for soviet propaganda in WW2. Our conversation went on and we started talking about the theatre as it was now, how he chooses films, about the larger theatre outside of town, how the tourists have effected it.
After a while we ask if we could see inside the theatre. He brings us in. The Hobbit is playing. There is a single massive screen and an elegant theatre seating over 300. The room has incredible sweeping acres that span the room, he tells us it more beautiful with the lights on.
Just a quaint story in a quaint town. I'm trying to convince Scott to make a guest blog post, I think you might enjoy some of his stories so far.
An eccentric cinephile in his 50's, he appeared to be the sole owner and caretaker. When we wandered into his theatre at 10pm his single screen was playing The Hobbit. The lobby was littered with huge old 35mm projectors, Steinbeck flatbeds and a mess of other archaic displaced machinery. Patrick appeared out of the theatre confused as to our purpose in his lobby. We began to ask him about the theatre. He told us about the opening of the theatre in the 1905, how it was originally an open air lot with horses, how the theatre had been changing with the times, how it was used for soviet propaganda in WW2. Our conversation went on and we started talking about the theatre as it was now, how he chooses films, about the larger theatre outside of town, how the tourists have effected it.
After a while we ask if we could see inside the theatre. He brings us in. The Hobbit is playing. There is a single massive screen and an elegant theatre seating over 300. The room has incredible sweeping acres that span the room, he tells us it more beautiful with the lights on.
Just a quaint story in a quaint town. I'm trying to convince Scott to make a guest blog post, I think you might enjoy some of his stories so far.
Tuesday, December 18, 2012
Work (An ongoing struggle with authority)
Today I did inventory at the stage.
Third semester in a row. Shit is terrible.
Lifting, cleaning, reorganizing. Bullshit.
But bullshit = $$$
So, being the wiseass leader I am, I talk back to my bosses and make suggestion while also being self deprecating to show humility.
One of my bosses (the female one who shall go unnamed in case she reads this somehow) was being a bitch, per usual. I, being pragmatic and logical, suggested pure logical suggestions in order to make inventory easier and better.
Yes, I talked back, and yes, I despise her. But I did not break No Douche 2012.
I just got back from drinking with John and received an email saying that while I was a great help and it is appreciated, I am not needed for the rest of the week.
That's the nicest and meanest Fuck You I've ever gotten.
More on this tomorrow.
Third semester in a row. Shit is terrible.
Lifting, cleaning, reorganizing. Bullshit.
But bullshit = $$$
So, being the wiseass leader I am, I talk back to my bosses and make suggestion while also being self deprecating to show humility.
One of my bosses (the female one who shall go unnamed in case she reads this somehow) was being a bitch, per usual. I, being pragmatic and logical, suggested pure logical suggestions in order to make inventory easier and better.
Yes, I talked back, and yes, I despise her. But I did not break No Douche 2012.
I just got back from drinking with John and received an email saying that while I was a great help and it is appreciated, I am not needed for the rest of the week.
That's the nicest and meanest Fuck You I've ever gotten.
More on this tomorrow.
yo guys ima try blogging with more edge, hear that's what the kids like these days.
This picture needs to be Fucking blogged.
And here's the Fuck why. The reason Fucking why is because this is the best Fucking picture that's ever been goddamn taken.
Did you goddamn hear what I fucking said?
This is not just the best photo. This is the greatest art. This is the peak of the mountain.
Get the fuck off my dick, Picasso.
Not a good enough Fucking reason?
OK. OK. Well fuck. You know another goddamn reason why this picture has to be Fucking blogged?
Because right Fucking now, the bros are Fucking spread the Fuck apart.
Joe-bro is Fucking in Georgia? Oh NBD BROS because Adrian is in South-The-Fuck-America, and Jesse is Fucking in Amsterfuckingdam.
Scott?
Texas. As always that is all there is for me to say.
Josh and I are in Boston. But this is like the most spread-the-fuck-out we all have ever Fucking been.
Anyways, lost my train of thought here, but the point is that i really wanted to blog this pic. Sorry if I forgot anyone.
Monday, December 17, 2012
Jesse when are you going back to LA?
I was going to fb message you but I was afraid itd make your phone buzz and who the fuck knows when you're sleeping and when you're awake anymore.
Sunday, December 16, 2012
Stairwell: a story
(Anyone else see The Hobbit yet? Anyone else think that movie is only worth it for the second unit scenery footage.)
Today i saw The Hobbit and ate a great sandwich so instead of telling you about that i figured ill tell a story from earlier this week:
The people I'm staying with gave me a key to their apartment so I can come and go as I please. So on the second night in town I go out to the new film museum. They're playing Vertigo. Good movie but I had trouble staying awake with the slow pace and late screening.
I bike home. It's one if the colder nights in Amsterdam, a little below 30, so the whole time I'm thinking about a warn bed. I get the apartment and open the door into the stairwell. I turn the light on and walk up to the top floor. I put my key in the door, turn and push. The door doesn't budge. I try turning the other way. The same. I try the deadlock and the knob and still nothing. I try all 4 combinations of twists and it gets me no where.
I'm locked out.
Twenty minutes pass as I fiddle with the lock. It's now a quarter past midnight. I know they have to get up for work early but I decide the only thing I can do is wake them. I knock. Louder and louder and louder. I start banging on the door, the bottom of the start case above me, the walls. I just start hitting shit. Nothing.
A half a hour passes. New plan: the buzzer. I go back down the stairs. I find the buzzer for the third floor and push it. I can hear it going off from the bottom if the stairs. Bzzzzzzz! Bzzzzzzzzzzzz! Buzz! Buzz! Buzz! Fifteen minutes. Nothing. Fuck they are seriously asleep!
I go back up stairs to the door. Fifteen more minutes at the locks, ten more minutes bashing the door and its somewhere past 1:30am. I'm exhausted so I look down. What I see is a three by three square of floor in front of the door with a mat that reads "oh not you again!".
The lights are on timers so every couple of minutes they go off. Ten more minutes of knocking and I look down again. It's looking like the only solution. It's edging towards 2am so I would only have to no out here for another 5hrs or so. "I can sleep on the floor for five hours", I justify to myself.
I turn the lights on one last time as I begin to position myself on the landing. My shoes are now pillows. My jacket and sweatshirt are blankets. The welcome may is my bed. I curl up, first leaning in the door, then the wall, then my knees. Damn the floor is cold. I fall into a position with my face on the floor, inches away from the stairs and my feet against the door. I finally fall asleep.
(Fifteen seriously uncomfortable minutes later)
"Fuckin A, this sucks!". I wake up with my face itchy from the welcome mat. Waking up in that position has made me quite alert. The possibility of falling asleep again is slim. I sit up against the wall. My phone can access the wifi from inside the apartment so I put on a podcast and get comfortable. I sit for a good 5hrs in the cold, dark stairwell. Listening to movie podcasts and waiting. By the time my shirtless host found me I must have looked like a caged animal seeing light for the first time in days. Pale, clothing all over, visibly in pain, shielding the doorway light from my eyes, I might have hissed at him I can't remember. I know I looked bad enough that the first word he said to me were "are you okay?".
I go inside and zombie my way to my room. His wife brings me a heating pack and places it in my bed. I slip under the blissfully warm blankets and sleep all the way till 4pm. By far the most satisfying night of rest I've had all trip.
So that's my "sleeping in the stairwell story". Hope you enjoyed it! Join me next time when I go to a sex show with Scott and get arrested for pissing off the top of a castle in Bruges.
Today i saw The Hobbit and ate a great sandwich so instead of telling you about that i figured ill tell a story from earlier this week:
The people I'm staying with gave me a key to their apartment so I can come and go as I please. So on the second night in town I go out to the new film museum. They're playing Vertigo. Good movie but I had trouble staying awake with the slow pace and late screening.
I bike home. It's one if the colder nights in Amsterdam, a little below 30, so the whole time I'm thinking about a warn bed. I get the apartment and open the door into the stairwell. I turn the light on and walk up to the top floor. I put my key in the door, turn and push. The door doesn't budge. I try turning the other way. The same. I try the deadlock and the knob and still nothing. I try all 4 combinations of twists and it gets me no where.
I'm locked out.
Twenty minutes pass as I fiddle with the lock. It's now a quarter past midnight. I know they have to get up for work early but I decide the only thing I can do is wake them. I knock. Louder and louder and louder. I start banging on the door, the bottom of the start case above me, the walls. I just start hitting shit. Nothing.
A half a hour passes. New plan: the buzzer. I go back down the stairs. I find the buzzer for the third floor and push it. I can hear it going off from the bottom if the stairs. Bzzzzzzz! Bzzzzzzzzzzzz! Buzz! Buzz! Buzz! Fifteen minutes. Nothing. Fuck they are seriously asleep!
I go back up stairs to the door. Fifteen more minutes at the locks, ten more minutes bashing the door and its somewhere past 1:30am. I'm exhausted so I look down. What I see is a three by three square of floor in front of the door with a mat that reads "oh not you again!".
The lights are on timers so every couple of minutes they go off. Ten more minutes of knocking and I look down again. It's looking like the only solution. It's edging towards 2am so I would only have to no out here for another 5hrs or so. "I can sleep on the floor for five hours", I justify to myself.
I turn the lights on one last time as I begin to position myself on the landing. My shoes are now pillows. My jacket and sweatshirt are blankets. The welcome may is my bed. I curl up, first leaning in the door, then the wall, then my knees. Damn the floor is cold. I fall into a position with my face on the floor, inches away from the stairs and my feet against the door. I finally fall asleep.
(Fifteen seriously uncomfortable minutes later)
"Fuckin A, this sucks!". I wake up with my face itchy from the welcome mat. Waking up in that position has made me quite alert. The possibility of falling asleep again is slim. I sit up against the wall. My phone can access the wifi from inside the apartment so I put on a podcast and get comfortable. I sit for a good 5hrs in the cold, dark stairwell. Listening to movie podcasts and waiting. By the time my shirtless host found me I must have looked like a caged animal seeing light for the first time in days. Pale, clothing all over, visibly in pain, shielding the doorway light from my eyes, I might have hissed at him I can't remember. I know I looked bad enough that the first word he said to me were "are you okay?".
I go inside and zombie my way to my room. His wife brings me a heating pack and places it in my bed. I slip under the blissfully warm blankets and sleep all the way till 4pm. By far the most satisfying night of rest I've had all trip.
So that's my "sleeping in the stairwell story". Hope you enjoyed it! Join me next time when I go to a sex show with Scott and get arrested for pissing off the top of a castle in Bruges.
Friday, December 14, 2012
Bike Ride (probably not interesting enough to read)
So I went to this micro brewery next to an old windmill, apparently the only one in this area of four to survive. The tour was okay but the beer was good and strong. I liked it a lot. So one hour after the tour I go outside to leave. Torrential rain. 39 degrees.
Now, let me back track. The brewery is way on the east side of town. I am staying way on the west side of town. That gives me a good hour to bike. I have not eaten all day so food is paramount. I ask a bar tender and he tells me to go to a Surinamese restaurant named Kam Yim.
So I head off with all the drunk power Holland's organic micro brew can muster. The rain instantly soaks me to the bone. I punch my bike into 3rd gear (there are only three), the speed picks up on the hills and it shakes so much it feels like the wheels are trying to escape the rest of my bike. I'm skid stopping inches from pissed off cars and passing sad blonde girls on pink bikes. I'm so in the zone I'm ignoring all traffic signs and going with the flow.
I stop to check my map and see I'm close to my destination. I find an open bike spot and park. My first thought as i walk away is "where the fuck did I put my bike". I keep going and quickly find the restaurant (what I actually found was a Chinese restaurant called Nam Kee not Kam Yim). I go in and order as I was advised in the bar. The waitress brings me a bowl of chicken, potatoes and string beans covered with a large tortilla. However I ended up eating this it was going to be an invention of necessity, it got ugly. Two women with a little kid get sat at the same table as me. The judgement is inevitable.
I brave back into the rain. I wander around for twenty min or so with no belief that i would find it. By shear miracle I find my red rented bike in the midst of all the local ones. I speed home with unfounded confidence. In no time at all I made it back and decided to write this story.
Now, I'm not totally sure this story is blog worthy. I will title it accordingly but if you do read the full story let me know if I've been writing way too much. This traveling alone shit has got me itching for human interaction so I've been blogging a lot. i might be over saturating it so let me know. Peace.
Now, let me back track. The brewery is way on the east side of town. I am staying way on the west side of town. That gives me a good hour to bike. I have not eaten all day so food is paramount. I ask a bar tender and he tells me to go to a Surinamese restaurant named Kam Yim.
So I head off with all the drunk power Holland's organic micro brew can muster. The rain instantly soaks me to the bone. I punch my bike into 3rd gear (there are only three), the speed picks up on the hills and it shakes so much it feels like the wheels are trying to escape the rest of my bike. I'm skid stopping inches from pissed off cars and passing sad blonde girls on pink bikes. I'm so in the zone I'm ignoring all traffic signs and going with the flow.
I stop to check my map and see I'm close to my destination. I find an open bike spot and park. My first thought as i walk away is "where the fuck did I put my bike". I keep going and quickly find the restaurant (what I actually found was a Chinese restaurant called Nam Kee not Kam Yim). I go in and order as I was advised in the bar. The waitress brings me a bowl of chicken, potatoes and string beans covered with a large tortilla. However I ended up eating this it was going to be an invention of necessity, it got ugly. Two women with a little kid get sat at the same table as me. The judgement is inevitable.
I brave back into the rain. I wander around for twenty min or so with no belief that i would find it. By shear miracle I find my red rented bike in the midst of all the local ones. I speed home with unfounded confidence. In no time at all I made it back and decided to write this story.
Now, I'm not totally sure this story is blog worthy. I will title it accordingly but if you do read the full story let me know if I've been writing way too much. This traveling alone shit has got me itching for human interaction so I've been blogging a lot. i might be over saturating it so let me know. Peace.
Thursday, December 13, 2012
Modern Art
Started my day with the Anne Frank House. Afterwards I was a little spent. So I decided to get on a canal boat and head to the art museum part of town, I was determined to get all the culture seen in one day. I ate a muffin.
By the time I got there I was a 1. So for me entering the modern art museum was like going into a weird ikea. I continued on and started to notice a particular painting, it was really creepy it was like it was looking at me. 2.
Then I approached a thirty foot tall by ninety foot wide wall with zigzag colors up and down the whole thing. I started to laugh and found it particularly difficult to stop.
3. Then there was the plad (4-
5) and a boat full of dicks (6-7).
Finally there was a three dimensional collage... It was a recreation of a bar in LA. You had to walk inside alone. They made you put all of your belongings outside the bar. Inside the bar all the patrons had clocks for faces. And they were all looking at you. Lost my shit.
8-8.75. Retreated to the cafe for hot chocolate, decides to write this post while sitting and eating my second muffin.
By the time I got there I was a 1. So for me entering the modern art museum was like going into a weird ikea. I continued on and started to notice a particular painting, it was really creepy it was like it was looking at me. 2.
Then I approached a thirty foot tall by ninety foot wide wall with zigzag colors up and down the whole thing. I started to laugh and found it particularly difficult to stop.
3. Then there was the plad (4-
5) and a boat full of dicks (6-7).
Finally there was a three dimensional collage... It was a recreation of a bar in LA. You had to walk inside alone. They made you put all of your belongings outside the bar. Inside the bar all the patrons had clocks for faces. And they were all looking at you. Lost my shit.
8-8.75. Retreated to the cafe for hot chocolate, decides to write this post while sitting and eating my second muffin.
Wednesday, December 12, 2012
being in the right place at the right time
means you get a fat-ass bowl of delicious ice cream for free. second time today that free-as-fuck food has been showered my way.
also im starting to finish all my shit. get ready to drink some cum.
peace bitches.
also im starting to finish all my shit. get ready to drink some cum.
peace bitches.
Tuesday, December 11, 2012
Day 7
That's right guys, I finally did it! No one thought I could but it happened. I've finally made it to the Amsterdam Unofficial Museum of Cheese!
Monday, December 10, 2012
Day 6
First day on my own. I'm waiting to meet the Amsterdam sperling's at the train station.
For those who don't know, I'm staying with a couple with the last name sperling. My dad randomly met these people via email and now I'm spending 6 days in their house simply because we have the same last name. Something tells me I could do this for ever city I go to.
I spent today biking around Amsterdam. Which brings me to my weather update: it's fucking cold! Face = numb skin around my eyes. Other than that Amsterdam is a pretty sweet city so far. My plan for tomorrow is to make a plan so I don't spend my day aimlessly biking around. Not sure when I'll have the Internet to post this so this strange journal may end up being lost in my phone forever.
For those who don't know, I'm staying with a couple with the last name sperling. My dad randomly met these people via email and now I'm spending 6 days in their house simply because we have the same last name. Something tells me I could do this for ever city I go to.
I spent today biking around Amsterdam. Which brings me to my weather update: it's fucking cold! Face = numb skin around my eyes. Other than that Amsterdam is a pretty sweet city so far. My plan for tomorrow is to make a plan so I don't spend my day aimlessly biking around. Not sure when I'll have the Internet to post this so this strange journal may end up being lost in my phone forever.
Sunday, December 9, 2012
Day 5
Shows over, real trip about start. Gonna be staying with a total stranger for the next week. There might be some radio silence in the next week, don't worry. I know what I'm doing.
Saturday, December 8, 2012
Saturday Night with the Adrians
Adrians here. Trying our best to roll a j. So far Adrian's is better than Joe's first attempt, but still not passable. Adrian hasn't tried his hand yet tho so maybe he'll do a better job. We're using rolling papers from spring break 2011. The ones that Joe and Adrian bought. When Joe asked for "rolling papers for cigarettes please." As classic as it gets.
I'm Adrian, Adrian's Adrian, and we'll be here all night.
I'm Adrian, Adrian's Adrian, and we'll be here all night.
Friday, December 7, 2012
Day 3
I'm worried these earlier posts are gonna be boring (mostly workdays) so here's a series of word that describe my day:
snow, frank ocean, beer, matrix rave, Danish, blue, balls
snow, frank ocean, beer, matrix rave, Danish, blue, balls
Thursday, December 6, 2012
This made my day
http://boston.barstoolsports.com/random-thoughts/do-not-worry-about-ayla-brown-shes-starring-in-cowboy-spirit-next-up-hollywood/
Day 2
Lame. Work day, had to set up and work the show. Met with the Danish guy in charge of the hotel gear. Showed him all the stuff we broke. Danish people are too polite, he didn't even come close to bring angry he just acknowledged how shitty it was that we broke it all and moved on.
Watched 300 old people slow motion touch each others faces in the dark. Not the first time.
Watched 300 old people slow motion touch each others faces in the dark. Not the first time.
Day 1
It's 3:30am here so ill make my post brief. My first day in Amsterdam went as follows: woke up feeling all the effects of 9hr time difference. Went into town that morning and hung out at a coffee shop. Then we proceeded to get the most amazing falafel I've ever had. Went into some swanky shops where various crew members mistook girls clothes for being European style men's clothes. Lost two people on our way back to the train where a man threatened to stab me because I had a camera. Then we set up the seminar show, we blew up four lights and destroyed a dimmer board (European power is weird). I've been reading the great gasby which is great but putting me in a weird headspace to be traveling in. Anyways more posts to follows.
Love,
Jesse
Love,
Jesse
Wednesday, December 5, 2012
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